


The clinical, scientific approach

by basaltgrrl



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: First Time, Genital Piercing, M/M, Perversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 09:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basaltgrrl/pseuds/basaltgrrl
Summary: An intriguing idea I had; what if Sam had an unexpected body modification that Gene unexpectedly finds intriguing?





	The clinical, scientific approach

“Jesus fucking christ, Tyler!!!” Gene stepped back, no, recoiled with the kind of horrified fascination on his face that Sam had only seen in rare moments at particularly grisly crime scenes.

It was really no less than he had expected. He had spent some time thinking about how to deal with this moment; the clinical, scientific approach? Begin with a history lesson, progress to a discussion about modern examples thereof? Or play the understanding card, with a thorough, “I know you might find this odd or even perverted…” speech? Even righteous indignation had passed through his list of possibilities. A quick response of “what’s your problem?”, a shrug, a slug of whisky…

But now, faced with the reality, Sam felt as if his brain was stuttering, locking up like an overheated engine. Now that was a metaphor, with Gene doing a pretty fair representation of the same, shirt off and face red. And helping himself to a slug of whisky, too. The situation did not feel unsalvageable, and yet for the life of him Sam felt like he was going to leave the next move to Gene. He felt vulnerable, stripped and seated while Gene paced like some kind of predator.

“Did you do that to yourself, you perverted little git, or were you held down and tortured?”

Sam heaved a sigh of relief as Gene moved closer again. Their first time. Alone. His flat. Well lubricated from a night of drinking at the Arms, well-heated from months of hot looks and quick punches. To have it all go pear-shaped once the clothes came off… Well, to be frank he had wondered about that from his first day at CID, when he ducked into the gents to take a piss and realized that something had come with him from the future. No mobile phone, no modern fabrics, but there… the stainless steel ring that he had acquired on more-than-a-dare was still in place.

“It’s called a Prince Albert,” he told Gene calmly. Or with a semblance of calm. “Nothing to do with the historical figure. It’s a… some people get their cocks pierced for… sexual pleasure.”

“Fuck, Tyler.” Gene swayed a step closer, staring. “Felt good, did it, when you jabbed a piece of metal through your todger?” He set his whisky glass down on the headboard, then went down on his knees, still staring.

Sam sucked a breath as Gene put a hand under his cock. Yeah. This. A surge of arousal made his shaft jump in Gene’s hand. Gene shot him a wry smile and continued his examination.

“It hurt,” he admitted. “A lot. But—I knew… ah… other people who had it done. Said it was great. Ah…”

Gene stroked the metal circle with his thumb, twisted it. Sam closed his eyes for a moment, drew another quick breath and grinned as Gene ran his tongue across the ring. It was all going to be OK. No need for the clinical, scientific approach after all. And perverted, it seemed, was utterly acceptable to DCI Hunt.


End file.
